


Confessions in Sleeping Bags

by gilliandersob



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 21:46:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3333998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilliandersob/pseuds/gilliandersob
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully go camping...<br/>Spoiler warning: References to Season 1 Episode "Ice" are included.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions in Sleeping Bags

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ScullyLovesQueequeg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullyLovesQueequeg/gifts).



The inside of the sleeping bag was now sticking to her bare legs. She'd shed her flannel pajama bottoms an hour ago and was deeply regretting the decision not to remove her shirt, too. Mulder gave off so much damn body heat. Their sleeping bags lay next to one another in the small tent and every so often Mulder would kick her foot through the bright blue and red barriers of their cocoons. The ground was hard; dried leaves from autumns ago crinkled beneath the tent floor. It was less than ideal. Scully sighed heavily, not bothering to hide her frustration. She was sure she was going to drown in sweat if she didn't do something.

It had started out so well, though. Mulder suggested they go camping over the weekend, and while Scully wasn't completely in love with the idea, she couldn't say no to him after seeing how excited he was.  
He did need to get out of that office, piled high with manila folders and expense reports. Oh, the expense reports.

Mulder had driven the entire 7 hours to Asheville, North Carolina. Scully had spent a great deal of time with her head leaning against the window, her head tilted back so she could see nothing but the tops of the trees. It was something she had always loved doing since as far back as she remembered. The tree tops scraped the blue sky, and she would always hold her breath when they appeared to come in contact with a cloud, expecting it to be ripped by the jagged points of the tall trees. 

The drive through the Cherokee National Forest was beautiful, and Scully found herself excited for the rest of the weekend. Not necessarily about sleeping on the ground (Mulder had insisted that they go all out, no cabins) but she realized half way down that this was the first time they'd been away together - and this certainly wasn't a work assignment. This clandestine camping trip certainly had certain...romantic appeal.  
Now here they were, up somewhere in the midst of the Blue Ridge Parkway. It was a hot month of August, and Mulder had suggested it would be cooler up in the higher elevations.  
It was, decidedly, not.

"God, Mulder. I can barely breathe." 

Her words were muffled as she moved, trying to circulate air through her sleeping bag. 

"It's just too hot," she whined, pulling herself up. 

Mulder made his way out of his own and wiped the hair from his face. It was only slightly matted to his forehead.

"Well," Mulder began, pausing in the middle of his thought, eyeing Scully as she self-consciously searched for her pajama bottoms again. 

"Why are you putting those back on if you're so warm?" 

"The forest doesn't need to see my pink underwear, Mulder. I'm going to get some fresh air."

Scully opened the flap of the tent and stepped outside, taking a big breath of mountain air. It was only slightly cooler than inside their tent, but it would do. She felt Mulder stand up beside her. He watched as she folded hair behind her ear and wondered briefly why gestures like this endeared her to him even more. Their relationship had begun to feel like quicksand, especially after they had spent nights at one another's apartments. It made it real, though they were still keeping it secret from, well, everyone else.

She walked to the car and opened the driver side door to pop the trunk. The cooler was tucked inside, and Scully could barely keep herself from dunking her face into the now mostly melted ice. She put her arm in up to her elbow, grasping for a bottle of water and a couple of sandwiches. She chuckled to herself, surprised at what the cooler brought to her mind. Turning to Mulder, she held out the bottle of water for him. As he took it, she motioned for im to follow her to the logs they'd placed around their small campfire. They hadn't needed a fire, for obvious reasons, but it seemed like the most obvious spot to sit and eat the sandwiches. She certainly wasn't ready to climb back into the tent. 

They sat together, eating their turkey sandwiches on rye. It was terribly quiet - there was no one around for miles, they were sure. Scully chuckled again, and decided to tell Mulder what was suddenly so amusing to her.

"So, do you remember the case up in Alaska, at the research center?" She swallowed a bite as she waited for him to respond. 

Mulder scratched his chin, nodding and thinking back to that awful event. 

It hadn't been enjoyable in the least. Mulder was curious as to why Scully would suddenly find it worth chuckling over. They'd pointed guns at one another out of anger and mistrust. They'd witnessed death and were so close to it themselves. The experience in Alaska had done much to cement their bond so early in their careers together, and Mulder would always be thankful for the experience for that reason. It wasn't, however, anything he cared to relive any time soon. He nodded for Scully to continue, confused about where she was going with her line of conversation. It was obvious that she was hesitant to continue, now self-conscious about what she was going to say. Mulder prodded her knee to get her to talk. He was relieved when he saw a small smile appear on her lips as she took a swig of water, buying more time.

"Um...you remember that first night? After the pilot had died? How scared we all were?" 

"Unfortunately, I do." Why was she smiling?

"Well...I have a confession." Her voice was barely above a whisper; even the tree frogs drowned her out. Mulder leaned in closer to hear.  
She covered her mouth with her hand and glanced at Mulder, wondering if he'd laugh at her. She didn't like to admit weakness, especially not in front of Mulder. But, she thought, maybe...maybe he'd felt the same?

"Ah...well, after we'd all gone to our separate rooms, I was...uh, afraid." The last few words came out in one breath, and she almost hoped Mulder hadn't heard. She stopped, watching Mulder closely. Thankfully, he'd always been a wonderful listener, and his eyes gave nothing away. She felt exposed now; she may as well have come out of the tent in her pink underwear for all the security she felt right at this moment. She clutched the tail of her t-shirt in her hand, balling it up to calm her nerves. She finally heard Mulder mutter something.

"You? Scully. I don't believe it." He was smiling, and she felt him softly punch her shoulder in a funny sort of affection that Scully had never understood - why did he sometimes treat her like a sister? It's what...Bill or Charlie would've done, punched her in the shoulder. These were the moments when she wished she was brave enough to let Mulder know what she wanted from him. She was awful at that though. Hell, she was nervous about sharing her feelings from years ago. That moment had long since passed, but she couldn't bring herself to make herself quite that vulnerable. Even to Mulder. She let herself be taken away by the memory she so wanted to share.

She'd been so afraid in that small room, surrounded by unfamiliar sights, smells, and sounds. A stranger's personal belongings hung on the walls, were piled on a desk, and the dresser drawers held items of clothing that were no longer needed by the man who'd once called this room 'home'. Scully hadn't liked the thought of sleeping in the bed of a dead man. She wasn't entirely sure why it bothered her so much - after all, she'd done countless autopsies - but she couldn't deny the fact that it, well, creeped her out. She remembers thinking of Mulder in his room, wondering if he was having as much trouble with this as she was. Surely he wasn't, she'd tried to convince herself. But, oh, it would be nice to have him here with her. She didn't know these other people; none of them had given her wonderful first impressions, as far as she was concerned. But she knew Mulder. Knew she'd be safe as long as he was nearby. But he was across the hall, Closed up in his own little room. She thought maybe she'd go and knock on his door, see if she could hang out in his room for a while, and maybe talk about the case. 

Sitting on this bumpy log in her pajamas, out in the middle of the forest, she could now admit to herself that what she'd really wanted from Mulder wasn't chit-chat. It wasn't necessarily sexual in nature, but she wouldn't have minded if he'd put her arm around her shoulders; maybe tell her things would be okay. Bear had declined so swiftly; she reasoned that surely it was only logical that she be frightened. What if she was infected? What if Mulder was infected? She was certainly more fearful of his being ill than herself. She didn't care to witness Mulder, her one source of stability up here on the ice, succumb to whatever had taken Bear so violently and suddenly.

Now, as their relationship had taken a...turn, for lack of a better word, she still craved things like a simple hug, but had no idea how to being to ask for one. Physical closeness was something she found herself craving at times. She often wondered if Mulder could tell how she loved when their legs would touch when sitting on the sofa outside Skinner's office; or when Mulder would absent-mindedly play with the hair at the nape of her neck as they sat and watched TV. 

Scully reached up and scratched the back of her neck at the thought. Neither of them had said anything for a few minutes, and Scully was almost certain she didn't care to finish the conversation about the trip to Alaska. Instead, she simply asked Mulder if he'd like another sandwich. 

When Mulder declined, she stood up, ready to head back to the tent. Sleepiness was creeping in, and the log wasn't getting any more comfortable. She was relieved when she heard Mulder follow her. She didn't want to have to cajole him back into the hot tent. 

God it was hot. 

This time, Scully took off her pajama bottoms immediately, along with her shirt, and did her best not to appear embarrassed. She slipped into her sleeping bag and watched as Mulder silently followed suit. She was surprised to see he looked rather distant. He rested on his back, arms folded under his head. His eyes roamed the peaked ceiling of the tent.  
"What's the matter, Mulder?" 

She was frustrated now. The sleeping bags were creating a barrier she wasn't sure she wanted in place and the one-sided conversation outside had apparently added a third layer to that wall.

"Mulder?" she asked, trying to find his eyes with her own. He had withdrawn and she wasn't sure what she'd said that was so wrong. Getting more frustrated with the situation, she kicked off her sleeping bag and stood up. Mulder watched, his eyes reaching only up to about mid-calf. He followed her movements as she crouched down near him.

"Scoot. I'm coming in." She suddenly felt brave and didn't care what Mulder thought. Sure, it was hotter than the 9th circle of hell in this tent, but she didn't care anymore.  
She needed to feel Mulder next to her. Not through a sleeping bag, not closed off by words or looks. He silently made room for her, turning on his side and watching as she shifted her body down his. It was cramped, and the sweat on their skin made it a less than smooth act. Mulder was caught off guard when Scully wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him slightly on top of her. He responded with a slight smile, resting his forehead against hers. Their legs mingled, the sleeping bag getting twisted around them both. Scully was almost certain that they'd have to be cut out. The warmth was vibrant and her skin tingled when Mulder shifted his weight slightly. She opened her mouth to ask again what was wrong, but was silenced by his lips covering her own.  
Mulder reluctantly lifted his head so he could see her face, brushing a lock of hair off her cheek. He shifted his body some more, noticing the steadily increasing amount of warmth between them. 

"Why do you think you can't tell me stuff, Scully?"

He said it so matter-of-factly; Scully nearly forgot they were sandwiched in a sleeping bag, skin on skin. 

"Oh...Mulder. Well, you know..." she lifted her head, eager to forget the whole thing and taste his mouth again. He, apparently, wasn't ready for that yet.

He groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"Scully. You were going to tell me something outside. But you stopped yourself. You admitted you were afraid. I'd...like to hear what you were going to say."

He was smiling now, mischievously, and Scully was wary of his intentions. Was he going to actually laugh at her? She licked her lips and took a breath. The sweat was incorrigible now; she felt a bead make its way down her chest. She tried to lift one leg, but found she was completely pinned down by Mulder, trapped. She was trapped. She panicked silently for a second, before deciding it was futile to fight it anymore. 

"I...I almost came into your room, Mulder. I was scared, and didn't want to be in mine alone. Of course, I didn't. I shoved a chest against the door instead." She shrugged slightly, trying to take the pressure off the moment. She wanted to crawl back into her sleeping bag now, no matter how nice this felt. Her breath caught as she felt Mulder, whose face had returned to hide in her neck while she'd talked, start to kiss her just under the ear. They were soft and slow; Scully's eyes fluttered at the sensation. 

She felt him pause and take a sharp breath as she'd involuntarily lifted her hips as much as she could. She desperately wanted the friction, wanted for him to remove his stupid boxer shorts so she could touch him. He'd steadily grown hard against her thigh as he'd started kissing her neck. Despite the heat, she had chill bumps, and she noticed he did, too. Mulder's mouth found hers again as they shifted together in the sleeping bag. Their deep kisses banished any lingering fears to the back of her mind. Mulder was safe. Mulder was comfort, even if she didn't always know how to tell him. 

"I just wanted a hug," she said, whimpering into his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Ice has always been my favorite episode. Every time I watch the episode I end up yelling at my TV, "JUST GO INTO EACH OTHER'S ROOMS. YOU'LL FEEL BETTER." So, I wrote this as a kind of nod to that wish.


End file.
